The Wrench Tango
by Miss Woodford
Summary: Each time I find inspiring drawings or paintings of EdxWin doing...stuff, I write more stories. NEWNEWNEW...the third and final installment of Wedding Night Triptych: Birth Day. Edward and Winry face their greatest challenge: parenthood!
1. The Wrench Tango

**The Wrench Tango**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own FMA, nor the picture which inspired this little story. I don't even own the concept of an EdwardxWinry pairing, which is close to perfection, IMHO.

**Warning:** Implied wrench violence; plus intense kissing.

**Author's note:** The drawing I speak of can be found at The easiest way to find it is to type "Edward and Winry" in the search box, and look for the drawings from the album of Kikyo29. To describe it: Winry is trying to bean Edward with a wrench, so he takes drastic action to save his poor noggin from another lump. Winry doesn't seem to mind this strategy.

The wrench raised high, about to come down and strike for a third time, and Edward Elric had had enough! An automail arm shot out and his right hand met her wrist halfway to his now tender scalp. Winry was strong, and the arm buckled - but only slightly, as he pushed back. Something flashed by his left eye - her right fist, and he grabbed that wrist too, and held on tightly. Edward Elric and Winry Rockbell did the Wrench Tango, back and forth, left and right, their feet shuffling for purchase on the wooden floor. It was the same damn thing every visit - he would come home for automail maintenance (or re-building), an innocent conversation flared into an argument, a wrench flashed, and he would end up laying on the floor, nursing a new lump on his head.

Well, not any more! He was finally - completely - fully - to his blond eyebrows - fed up! Not that Ed was safe, not by any means. Winry growled in annoyance, her face was contorted in anger. Her baby blue eyes were flashing a warning: _you mess with me, mister, you pay the price!_ She was slightly taller than he was, and muscular from lifting heavy pieces of metal all day. Edward was still stronger, but he couldn't keep this up all day - he had to think of something - and fast! Think, Elric! Think! _Distraction - that always works! Yeah!_ He grinned wickedly at her, and as he expected, she fell for it, opening her mouth to say something. Pulling her closer, Ed reached forward and his lips met hers in a fierce kiss.

Winry made an outraged sound in her throat. Ed couldn't be entirely sure, but he could assume she was saying something along the lines of "You are SO dead, Elric!" He deepened the kiss and suddenly - she stopped fighting. Her hands opened, and he dimly heard the sound of the wrench clanging to the floor. Success! Now to end this and claim vic - um - _what - what are those sounds - is she moaning? Oh, I like that! _Entirely of their own volition, his hands let go of her wrists, the left tangling itself in her silky hair, the right slipping around her waist and pulling her tight against his body.

His logic screamed in disbelief: _What are you doing! _But Edward's mouth and body were in cahoots together, and they were giving logic the cold shoulder. _Hehe, shoulder - umm - her's are so soft. _Winry had closed her eyes, and put her arms around his neck, as she fiercely kissed Ed back. The Wrench Tango was over, so he closed his eyes too, and made his own little noises of contentment. Logic piped up once more: _I think you've created a monster_. The rest of him told logic to shut up - so it did.


	2. Cold Hand, Warm Heart

**Cold Hand, Warm Heart**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own FMA nor it's characters; I just like to play around in it's world for awhile.

**Beta:** Serenanna

**Author's note:** Yet another drabble inspired by an Eward x Winry drawing, this one at http/hotaruway (aw heck, email me for the URL if you want to see it) . I will add new drabble whenever I find inspiring Edward x Winry drawings or screenshots. Drop me an email line if you find one I should know about.

Fall mornings in Risembool were chilly, so Winry snuggled her nude body closer to Edward, who was still deep asleep. There was a slight smile on his handsome face, and he made an inaudible noise in his throat when she nuzzled him _right there_ where his neck joined to his shoulders. It had been five years since she'd last seen him on that terrible day in Central. Winry had been sure he would never come back - but he had. Older, wiser - and _taller_.

Winry smiled and blushed when she remembered last night, a perfect end to a perfect day. It was the first full day the Elric brothers had spent at home since they succeeded in returning from the "machine world" on the other side of the Gate. After the trio picked wildflowers in the cool of the evening from around the ruins of the Elric house, they had walked to the cemetary and placed bouquets on the graves of their loved ones - Trisha Elric; Daniel and Sara Rockbell.

She and Edward had strolled back side by side along the path, and they were left far behind by the excited Alphonse who was trying to race Den back home. Once the boy and dog were out of sight, Edward paused, and Winry, confused by his actions stopped as well. They stood and watched the sunset for a minute before Edward twined his right arm around Winry's shoulders, and wound the fingers of his metal hand through her hair.

He pulled her close - closer - then bent his head down to kiss her. Crazy thoughts raced through Winry's head when their lips met:

_I can't call him 'shrimp' anymore._

_His hand is cold._

_But his lips - his lips are so warm._

_I love him._


	3. When One Door Closes

**When One Door Closes...**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own FMA, I just like to play around in it's world and annoy the characters for awhile.

**Author's note:** This story is yet another in the series of drabbles, one shots and mini-fics I am basing on inspiring FMA fanart, usually of Edward and Winry. The title of this one is "Edowin Sketch" and is the work of ImperfectEclipse who graciously gave me permission to cite her work.Similar in spirit to this one is "You Are Back" by Aquarina-chan. "Edowin Sketch" has been colored and resubmitted under the name of "Reunion's Embrace" Both are very talented, and they've done lots of terrific FMA art. So give them props. But please do not steal their art!

**Warning:** Contains movie spoilers, loads o' violence, and some cussing. .

**Beta:** Aemilia Rose; thanks also to Serif who looked it over and gave me some advice concerning Winry's and Ed's actions.

* * *

_It's over, it's finally over..._

Edward Elric sighed in relief and sagged against the side of Eckart's ship. He could already feel the aches of muscle pulls starting to catch up with him and realized he'd gotten out of shape without having Al to spar with every day. A slight wind kicked up, bringing the scent of burning building to his nostrils. Edward blinked and ducked his head when some acrid smoke was blown into his face causing his vision to blur and his eyes to tear up in self defense.

"Fullmetal, are you all right?" Mustang asked in concern having drawn closer without Ed knowing it. Edward looked up, but only saw blurs of blue and red, so he sniffed and drew a sleeve across his eyes.

"Yeah, I'm all right, some smoke just got into my eyes, that's all." he muttered, but he was lying and Roy knew it. His voice had thickened with emotion and Edward's throat closed up all together when a sobbing boy threw arms about him.

"Brother! I missed you so much, I thought I'd never see you again! Everyone thought you were dead, and..." Alphonse's voice dissolved into a fit of wailing as he began to cry and Edward wrapped him in a comforting hug. With his arms full of little brother, Edward allowed the tears brimming in his own eyes to spill down his cheeks and he never heard Roy leave to return to his troops.

No crying jag lasts forever, and Alphonse's eventually wound down to juddering sobs, and then intermittant sniffs. When he finally let go, Edward dug in his left- hand pocket and offered to Al a well-used handkerchief that had been softened by many washings. The boy accepted it with a murmured _thank you_, dried his eyes and blew his nose with a loud 'honk!' The front of Ed's shirt was very damp from Al's tears, but he was so glad to be home again, he didn't really mind it.

_Home._ The reality hadn't truly kicked in that he had succeeded in crossing the Gate and returning where he belonged. _Home._ What a beautiful, magical, and melodious word. _Home._ Edward said it very softly under his breath and chuckled. He'd done what their father thought was impossible, he'd -

"Brother, look!" Alphonse pointed up at the sky, and Edward could both see and hear the retreat of the Thulist army, their great airships streaming back towards the portal which led to the machine world. As the last one disappeared into the distance, Edward smiled grimly and Al regarded him warily. "Brother? What are you thinking?"

"Al, we've beaten them this time, but they will be back. We have to go to the underground city and destroy the portal because the only way to protect our world is to slam and lock the door forever! Come on, let's go!"

Even at a dead run, it still took the Elric brothers several minutes to get down to the ground, and then they had to negotiate an obstacle course of rubble back to the ancient church which led to the underground city. The city destroyed so many centuries ago in the massive alchemic reaction created when Hohenheim and Dante created the philosopher's stone, the reaction which cost Hohenheim of Light his life and led to his first act of "body-jumping."

It would be a story Edward could tell Alphonse later, but now they had a whole world to save. Winry and Schieska saw them from a distance and the former cried out "Edward!" but the wind tore her words away and also obscured the brothers behind a veil of smoke. Terrified both Elrics would disappear on her, Winry scrambled after them with Schieska following. The rubbled-choked streets made for slow going and Schieska gasped loudly when Winry caught a toe on a chunk of concrete and went sprawling.

Winry hissed between her teeth at the sudden pain of a skinned knee. _I don't have time for this!_ She sat up, and then back on her heels, gritted her teeth and briefly squeezed her eyes shut. But she opened them in surprise when a boot scraped stone in front of her, and a hand suddenly hovered in her line of sight. "I know where they've gone, Miss Rockbell, please allow me to assist you."

She raised her head and saw a smiling Mustang, his left eye covered by a large black patch, the man who...

But the past was past, and Winry needed to catch up to Ed and Al. Winry swallowed hard, then put her hand in Mustang's and let him help her up. The abraded skin of her knee stung, and she saw a little blood, she raised her leg slightly and brushed some loose pebbles away with her free hand. With Mustang's help, she began to hobble forwards, closer to the old church two boys she loved had just run into.

With Mustang's aid, Winry made much better time towards the ancient church. Behind her, Havoc helped Schieska navigate through the ruins of Central, and the rest of 'his' troops - Hawkeye, Breda, Brosh, Ross, Falman, and Feury - brought up the rear. Once inside the door, Winry stopped and goggled. This church had been a beautiful building once upon a time, and there were traces of its former glory in the beamed ceiling soaring to a peak, and remains of stained glass windows.

Straight ahead was the old altar of the church with a gaping black hole in the middle of it, one of the entrances to the underground city. Winry, Roy and the others weaved down the center aisle past pieces of debris. Several large pieces of roof had fallen in during the Thulist attack, but Winry only had eyes for that hole in the altar. A man and a boy for whom she cared deeply had gone down there and she _had_ to follow them. But Roy held her back just before she entered. "Wait, Winry, you will need light." He stooped and rummaged in the debris field for a moment, then uttered a sound of satisfaction before coming up with a stout piece of wood.

"Pen, sir?" Schieska asked with a smile, handing a blue ballpoint to Roy. He smiled his thanks and drew a small array on the wood, and brushed a finger over it. The array glowed briefly before Roy snapped his fingers to summon a small flame which he touched to the wood. He handed it to Winry and said "The array will prevent the flame from burning down too far." She didn't say anything, and not trusting her voice because she was so overwrought, merely nodded.

As Breda brought him some more likely chunks of wood and Roy used the pen to make more torches, Winry finally asked, "Roy, what do you think they are planning to do?"

Roy paused in the middle of drawing an array to reply, "I don't know Miss Rockbell, but if it's something stupid, I'll kick Ed's ass for you."

The steps down to the underground city seemed unending and Winry wanted to hurry and get there faster, but the way was also very steep and she almost fell headlong several times. She would have taken Roy with her because he was leading the way, his free hand poised to snap in case of trouble. Hawkeye walked alongside, her face blank, but her eyes betraying the stress she was feeling. Her guns remained holstered, but her free hand was ready to draw one and thumb off the safety at a moment's notice.Behind them came Havoc, Brosh, Ross, Breda, and Falman, all armed with rifles. Schieska, escorted by Feury, brought up the rear. He had been given orders by Roy to take both her and Winry back to the surface if danger threatened.

The little group stopped at the end of the stairway and stared in awe at the size and breadth of the underground city. Winry and Schieska had seen it before, but none of the others had. "It's like a necropolis!" Hawkeye exclaimed.

The city was completely silent in its grave, immured thousands of feet below the surface of the earth. Some of the buildings sagged drunkenly against one another, but most stood straight and tall, black and glassless window openings making them appear perpetually startled, like deer caught in headlights. The air was so cold and still that any sound was carried a long way, and a slight 'clank!' echoed around the city in such a fashion Roy wasn't sure which direction it had come from.

Then he saw a flash of blue light almost straight ahead of him from an almost entirely roofless building with a grand pillared entrance. "There!" he pointed. "Let's go everyone, double time!"

In the great hall of the mostly ruined opera house, Edward and Alphonse crouched behind a chunk of wall (courtesy of Ed's alchemy) and winced each time a bullet smacked against the concrete. They had found the place a beehive of activity with officers shouting orders in German and groups of men running about and forming into ranks. Far from retreating across the portal, the Thule army was _regrouping_ as it prepared to make another assault upon the 'Shambalans' above.

The commander of the Thulists ground his teeth in frustration. This invasion hadn't gone at all as planned. Madame Eckart had assured him 'Shambala' was a utopia where war was unknown and the denizens of this world would not even know how to fight back. The invasion would be a 'cakewalk'. _Many a slip betwist cup and lip..._ he thought darkly, this world not only had armed forces, they knew how to put up a fierce defense. After merely a quarter of an hour, he had known he was facing battle-hardened troops and not gentle flower throwing children.

He peered in vain towards the huge slab of concrete which had magically levered on end, the smoke from his squad's rifles had made such a fug that he couldn't see who was hiding behind it. Was it only the two Shambalans spotted earlier as they snuck closer, or was an entire platoon there now? He pointed towards the slab and ordered "Move in, men! But I want them alive for questioning, so put on your masks and use the gas!"

As one, the squad stood up and two of the men shouldered their rifles while the others pulled gas masks down over their faces. The two unarmed men also pulled masks on, then removed their back packs and from them took out two cylinders of silvery metal. One side of each cylinder had a handle and trigger mechanism, and graceful spouts stuck out from their other sides. When they were ready, the squad began to advance upon the slab that shielded the Elric brothers.

Alphonse didn't hear any more shooting and he peered cautiously around one end of the slab while Edward peered around the other. The actions of the men confused Al and he moved further away from his protected spot to get a closer look through the swirling gun smoke. He still couldn't see and he had begun to move even further out when someone grabbed him by the collar of his cloak and yanked him back - hard - and uttered a string of curses. He stared in wonder at Edward who was doing the cursing, when they were younger, swearing like that would get a boy's mouth washed out with soap.

"Dammit, Al, get back you idiot!" Edward had seen the gas canisters and the sight of them made him feel slightly sick. He remembered that strange yellow cloud which had billowed out at him back in Munich and how quickly it had knocked him out cold. "Time to take the offensive, little brother. I'll go left and you go right, on the count of three we'll shake things up a little!"

The advancing Thule troops hesitated when two figures darted out from either side of the slab. Were there more enemies hiding there? The squadron leader motioned to the two men with the cans of sleeping gas - _take them!_ But they had taken only a few steps forward when the pair of young Shambalans clapped their hands together, crouched down and placed their hands on the ground. Flashes of blue light sizzled into the air and suddenly furrows of concrete were racing towards the squad.

Roy and his little party came upon the scene just in time to see enemy troops go flying through the air like tenpins when struck dead on by a bowling ball, and he grinned to see that Ed and Al were the cause of the carnage. The Elric brothers didn't lack for courage, but common sense was another matter. Both were out in the open and unarmed. He opened his mouth to yell to Hawkeye but she was already kneeling at his side, and saying, "I'm on it, sir!", as she took careful two-handed aim with one of her pistols. From a distance of perhaps 40 yards, Riza picked her target - a tall man in a black uniform who was shouting orders.

The Thule army commander was bellowing in rage at his men, commanding them to pick themselves up and return fire. He pulled out his own pistol, waved it about and fired a couple times into the air. Then he saw a small blond man leaping like a deer over the rubble of the floor, something silver and sharp-looking protruding from his right arm. The man was fast, but he would never reach him in time, so the commander took aim. There was a sharp _crack!_ and the commander's body jerked slightly as a round, red hole appeared in the middle of his forehead. He never knew what hit him.

Edward leapt over the fallen body of the commander and plowed straight into a mass of half-organized Thule troops who fell, either screaming from deep sword cuts or groaning from vicious kicks. No one could touch the angry blond whirlwind who yelled over and over, "This is _my_ world!"

Edward had caused such a distraction that no one saw Alphonse sneaking around to a large group of unattended armor suits. When he clapped his hands and touched two suits, they jerked to life, red eyes sparking inside their helmets. Both of the suits extended their arms and touched two more suits and then four suits each touched two more suits, and eventually Alphonse had complete control of all two hundred armors.

He sighed quietly and told them what to do. As one, the suits lurched towards the Thule troops who were pouring out of the airships. Another officer pointed at the "Shambalans" and screamed "Forward! Kill! Crush! Destroy!" Then a moment later, when one of the suits wrapped unbreakable arms around him, he shrieked, "Not me, you idiot! Let me go!"

The remaining armors lined up and formed a protective barrier of metal to shield Alphonse's reckless brother from any gunfire. At another sighed order from Alphonse, they began to walk forwards, herding the remaining Thule troops back into their airships. Most dropped their weapons, although a few of the men fired wildly, but their bullets only ricocheted.

One of the armors spoke in Alphonse's voice, "No, don't sho - !" It sighed in exasperation as first one soldier, then another fell screaming to the floor with self-inflicted bullet wounds. "I told you not to shoot!" Each wounded man was picked up by a suit and carried along as the armors continued to herd the enemy, and any man who evaded them soon wished he'd stayed put after being confronted by either the angry Edward, or an equally angry Roy. There was only the occasional crack of gunfire now. Most of the Thule troops had dropped their rifles and the foolish ones who didn't were quickly ushered into the afterlife by the deadly aim of Hawkeye and the rest. Only Feury, Winry and Schieska didn't take part as they sheltered in the shadow of Edward's concrete slab.

Alphonse began to relax, seeing that they were going to succeed in driving the invaders from their world and he let his guard down. He got the shock of his young life a few seconds later when a loud explosion sounded. And a large gap appeared in his line of metal suits. Several lay unmoving on the floor, their metal bodies twisted and smoking. He tried to look through the cloud of smoke, but couldn't see anything in the whirling mass for a minute or two. The air at last cleared to reveal what appeared to be an enormous cannon pointing in the general direction of Roy and his troops.

Edward's lips drew back in a feral snarl - so they'd brought out a howitzer. As if that would be a match for his automail blade. He crouched slightly and made to charge, but hesitated when a hand clamped upon his right shoulder. "Allow me, Fullmetal. I have another sudden urge to make something go 'boom-boom'."

A small flame sprouted from snapped fingers, flickering in the stale air, then suddenly flaring to a foot long lance before it _leaped_ towards the howitzer. With his left hand on his hip, Roy concentrated as he adjusted the oxygen content of the air around his target.

The howitzer crew had been adjusting the weapon to destroy more of the armor suits when one of them noticed Roy's flame and they frantically tried to re-adjust their aim. The crew commander had just bellowed "Fire!" when the weapon exploded, sending razor-sharp shards of metal ripping through their bodies and those of their comrades. Edward and the others threw themselves to the floor, but Alphonse commanded more armors to fill the gap and shield them from the worst.

A brief silence reigned while the debris and dust began to settle.

Coughing, Edward and Roy cautiously stood up and looked over to where the howitzer had been. They couldn't see much as the area was wreathed with black smoke and flames, but it gradually cleared to reveal a scene of carnage that matched that above in Central. The floor was littered with prone bodies, mostly dead or dying, a few moving a bit and moaning. They wore black uniforms, so only shiny patches showed where they were bleeding, but more pools of blood could be seen on the floor and splashed onto the armor suits. There was nothing left of the howitzer crew except a few mangled shreds of metal, clothing, and unidentifiable body parts.

Figures in black uniforms slowly began to emerge from behind the wheel struts of the nearest airship and Roy tensed, fingers ready to snap again. But they looked as if all the fight had been drained out of them, and when one of them took a white handkerchief from a pants pocket and waved it in the air, Roy knew it was all over. He approached the man with the makeshift flag of surrender who said, "I am Grupenfuhrer Jungbeck, and we surrender. What are your terms?"

"I am Corporal Roy Mustang of the Armed Forces of Amestris. We don't want prisoners, so retrieve your wounded, get back into your airships and return to your world. Do not come back."

The rest of the Amestrians gathered behind Roy: Edward, Alphonse, Hawkeye, Havoc,Brosh,Ross, Breda, Falman, and finally Feury with Winry and Schieska. Jungbeck just stared, an army of crack German troops had been beaten by six riflemen - two of them women - a mere Corporal, and two unarmed boys. "Don't feel so bad, Grupenfuhrer," laughed Roy. "These two are alchemists, so you never had a chance."

"I accept your terms, Corporal," Jungbeck bowed to him. "We will leave and never come back. Danke shoen." He stepped back a few paces, then clicked his heels and turned smartly. "Everyone! If you can move, get on your ship! Help those who cannot walk! Move it, move it, move it!"

It took a couple of hours, but the loaded airships finally lifted off and headed for the still glowing portal. They left behind their dead, the empty suits of armor, and one airship which had been too crippled to fly. After whispered consultations with Roy, Edward and Alphonse used alchemy to move it to the center of the array where they planned to use it as a catalyst to destroy the portal. Roy put the men to work on burial detail, picking up all the dead Thule soldiers and laying them in long rows, arms crossed over chests. The destruction of the portal would bring down the rest of the opera house and bury them under tons of concrete. As the city was already a memorial to the thousands of people killed to make a philosopher's stone, it would make a fitting tomb for the invaders.

After he climbed on top of a large piece of rubble, Edward stuck two fingers between his lips and whistled to get everyone's attention. "If everything is ready, Al and I will destroy the portal, but we need you to get well away from the city before we do this." Roy nodded and motioned to his troops. Even if he was only a Corporal and technically below all of them in rank, he was still Colonel Mustang in their eyes and so still in command. As Edward hopped down and rubbed his hands together with anticipation, he idly gave thanks to Alfons Heidreich who had risked everything to put him aboard that rocket plane. In the back of his mind, he breathed a word of thanks to his friend. _Don't be an idiot, Alfons. You still have great things to accomplish and make your fellow Germans proud._

"Edward." He stopped in his tracks and turned to see Winry standing there with a nervous smile. He smiled back warmly and raised his right arm.

"Hey machine freak," he said softly. "Thanks for the automail. I feel whole again."

He turned away but only managed a few steps forward when his ponytail was seized and yanked so hard he stumbled backwards with a loud "Urk!" Edward whirled around and was ready to yell when Winry grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him close. Her soft lips made him forget what he had been planning to say. His eyes were wide open in surprise and Edward could see Winry was blushing. He was sure his own face was brick red also.

Winry finally released him with a quiet _smack_, and ran the tip of her tongue over his lips before she spoke. "Just don't do anything stupid because I have a wrench with your name on it, alchemy geek."

After everyone had evacuated back to the ancient church, Winry waited on tenterhooks for the Elric brothers to return. Although the city was thousands of feet below them, the sounds of explosions could be clearly heard, and a rush of dust and hot air coming from the entrance in the altar was strong enough to stagger them. _Oh Ed, _she thought, _please come back safely!_

The waiting seemed to last forever, but eventually the sounds of slow footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs - _two_ sets of footsteps - and when Edward and Alphonse emerged into the church, it was to the sounds of whoops and cheers from more Amestrian solders. The brothers looked tired, and they were covered in dust. Stray bits of wood fell out of Alphonse's hair when he shook his head.

"Elric brothers! Thank the stars you are alive! And Edward! You have returned!"

Edward paled, _Oh no! It's -!_ The next instant both he and Alphonse were swept into the muscular arms of Alex Louis Armstrong, who had just arrived from Lior. He hugged them so tightly Alphonse was sure his eyes were going to pop from their sockets.

"Not so tight, Alex, you're going to squash them!" Roy Mustang was chuckling at the sight of the former Strong-Arm Alchemist manhandling the Fullmetal and his little brother. He was almost nostalgic for the sight, but Roy shouldn't have spoken unless he was out of Alex's reach.

"Roy Mustang!" In one seamless move, Alex dropped Edward and Alphonse to the floor where they sat blinking and gasping for breath before he seized Roy in an unbreakable grip. "How I have missed your smiling face!"

"Gahhh!" That was all Roy could manage before the breath was squeezed out of him. Great tears were spilling from Armstrong's eyes and Roy grimaced. Being hugged by Alex was bad enough, but to be hugged by a _blubbering_ Alex...

Edward scrambled to his feet and then helped Alphonse up. He didn't say a word, but just motioned and they quietly tip-toed out of Armstrong's reach and didn't stop until they'd gotten outside the church. More and more people - soldiers as well as civilian residents of Central - were gathering and the crush of bodies was making Edward feel claustrophobic. The brothers had nearly fought their way through to a clear area when a voice cried "Edward!" behind him. He turned to see Winry and Schieska trying to reach them, and Edward didn't hesitate, he rushed backward and pushed people out of his way until he was close enough to take Winry's hand.

He turned back towards Alphonse and plowed his way outside the growing crowd, still holding Winry's hand while Schieska held on to the back of Winry's jacket. Almost without thinking, Edward put his arms around Winry, flinching only slightly when she reciprocated. "Is it over, Ed?" she asked. "Is the invasion finally over?"

"Yeah, it is." Edward's voice was thick with emotion when he replied. "We slammed and locked the door. Our world is safe now." Winry put her head on one of his shoulders and smiled with relief, but she looked up again when he said quietly, "Hey, machine geek."

Winry forgot what she had planned to say when Edward's warm lips met her own...

_When one door closes...another one opens._

_Fin(?)_


	4. Wedding Night

**Wedding Night**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own FMA.  
**Author's note:** Based on a beautiful, passionate and sexy pic of Ed and Winry on their wedding night. Drawn by aquarina-chan. it can be found here: link /deviation/76892940  
**Beta: **moi

**Warning:** Some bad language.

/

One

Winry shivered

She used to call him "alchemy freak" and was continually surprised that blood, not ink, flowed from his scalp whenever she clobbered him with a wrench. Winry thought he was a cold blooded bastard for making her wait for him so many times.

But Edward's lips and tongue were warm. The kisses he brushed on to her flat bellly were soft as kitten fur, and light as feathers. Her knees shook when his fingers explored more _sensitive_ parts of her and made her yearn for more.

Her husband slowly stood up again, his lips blazed a trail of hot kisses upwards before he he covered her mouth with his. Tonight, Winry would find out what lay hidden underneath his blue boxers.

She trembled with anticipation.

/

Two

Edward shivered.

He used to call her "machine geek", and imagined her as unyielding metal and sharp angles with a piston for a heart and oil running through her veins. Edward thought she was a cold hearted bitch whenever she beat him with a wrench.

But he was wrong, so very wrong. The Winry he caressed this night was warm and pliable. Her graceful curves were gentle. He could feel her heart beat against his chest with a soft _that-thump_. Nothing about his wife was machine-like at all.

The back of his neck prickled when they kissed and her tongue pushed against his.

He trembled with desire.

/

Three

They moved together.

They whispered sweet nothings together, they touched and fondled togther. Finally they cried out together, and then lay panting, their limbs still entwined. Automail and alchemy were pushed completely from their thoughts.

Edward just nuzzled her neck because he was too winded to speak.

Winry murmured a sleepy complaint and snuggled her nude body closer against him. Edward pulled up one of the bedsheets against the chilly night air blowing through an open window. A quick glance noted smears of blood between her thighs, and he felt a twinge of guilt.

He kissed her forehead in apology.


	5. Honeymoon

**HONEYMOON**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own FMA, I just like to play around in its world and annoy the canon characters for a while.

**Author's note:** Sort of a sequel to "Wedding Night"

**Warning:** general newlywed silliness; plus vague mentions of sex.

**Beta: **Took-baggins

They walked hand in hand on the white sand of a beach in Creta, kicked salt water at each other, showed one another interesting shells picked up at the water's edge and examined strange sea creatures in clear tidal pools. They built a sandcastle on the beach and next to it, he wrote in the sand with a stick **Edward loves Winry loves Edward** before a wave came in and dissolved their work. Both became good and sunburned.

Neither had ever seen an ocean before and they sat together on a beach towel to watch the sun set in a brilliant array of colors. The resort staff lit a bonfire on the beach once the sky was dark, and then they and the other guests danced to native Cretan music until supper. They fed each other strange dishes like oysters on the half shell, crab legs and sea bass before they toasted everyone's health with so much champagne both felt all floaty like the bubbles.

He had a camera along, but never took any photos himself. The only exposure on the entire roll was taken by an obliging elderly couple they met on the beach. They are standing back to back, the fingers of his left hand and her right tightly entwined. Dressed in blue jeans and a white shirt, he smiles up at the gulls as his hair blows about. She's pushing her hair out of her eyes and laughing while the frilly skirt of her white halter-style sundress rides high on her thighs in the wind.

The rest of their honeymoon consisted of whispers and sighs, lips and tongues searching, bodies molded to each other, skin sliding against skin, cries of passion and climax. Well, those memories weren't suitable for framing. But Edward and Winry would remember those nights every time they looked at the souvenir which arrived nine months later.


	6. Birth Day

**A WEDDING DAY TRIPTYCH 3: BIRTH DAY**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own FMA, I just like to play around in its world and annoy the canon characters for jollies.

**Warning:** bad language, and cutesy talk about babies

**Author's note:** Third in an unofficial series after A Wedding Night Triptych, & Honeymoon, First anime-verse

**Beta: **moi. Not because I wanted to, but because I couldn't find a suitable beta. Constructive crit is greatly appreciated, but flames will be used to light my charcoal grill.

**Prologue:**

When the mailman brought that day's post to the Rockbell-Elric home, Winry practically tore it out of his hand before he could even get "Hello, Mrs. Elric" all the way out. She just nodded in a distracted manner and mumbled something that sounded like "Hi" and "Bye" all at the same time before she spun on one heel and walked back towards the house, scattering discarded envelopes over the grass as she sorted through them.

As luck would have it, the letter she wanted as at the very bottom of the fistful she'd started with. Winry stared at the return address on the upper left corner of the envelope without really seeing it, before she flipped it over and began to tear it open. Then she stopped and let her eyes shift over to her left. Thank the postal gods she had gotten to the mail first for the last few days before Edward did.

He wouldn't have missed the significance of that particular return address, and knowing him, the sneaky little bastard wouldn't have hesitated to steam the letter open and read it first. But right now, he was rather distracted in sparring with Alphonse, and Winry paused to admire her husband as he dashed forward, kicked, thrust, and parried before performing a neat series of back flips to take him out of Alphonse's reach. She admired his energy, the way his tanned skin moved over toned muscles that bunched and flowed like water, how his hair swung with his movements, and...

Winry gulped down the huge lump in her throat before she turned away and hurried into the house at a near-run. She paused just long enough to throw the front door open, walk through the living room under full steam, race up the steps to their bedroom, and slam that door shut. She leaned against the cool wood and panted because the steps had suddenly seemed much steeper than before.

She took one step into the room before she stopped and whirled about to face the door. Her right hand trembled as she reached out and threw the dead bolt she'd installed underneath the knob. Winry had put it there soon after they returned from their honeymoon so no one would accidentally walk in on them while they were being "intimate". Only then did Winry rush with short, quick steps over to the desk by the window. Technically, it was Edward's desk and the surface overflowed with alchemy books, back issues of _Popular Alchemy_ and _Alchemy Insider_ magazines, letters from other alchemists and random sheets of paper covered with notes and doodles, the products of his prodigious research.

She pulled a short gold colored chain to switch on the green shaded reading lamp on one corner of the desk before she resumed tearing the envelope open. Winry pulled out the single folded sheet of paper which was inside, but her knees threatened to buckle before she could unfold it. She had to pause and pull out the chair which fitted neatly into a recess at the front of the desk.

The chair was on wheels, so it yielded readily to her touch and she collapsed gratefully onto its cushioned seat. She blew out the breath she'd been holding, unfolded the letter and quickly scanned the few lines typed on it. Winry read it several times over, to commit the contents to memory before she let it fall and join its fellows scattered on the desks surface. She rested her elbows on the desk and cupped her rounded chin on her hands, sighing once or twice in the next few minutes. Her heart fluttered in her chest like a frightened sparrow and she took several deep breaths to calm herself.

Life, as she knew it was changed forever.

She'd better tell Edward.

/

Edward was using the outside shower to wash the sweat away after his sparring session and Winry sucked in her breath at the sight of him. Water droplets sparkled like prisms in the sunshine, spraying and dancing over his skin and hair. He'd stripped down to his blue boxers and the water had soaked the thin cotton through, molding the wet material to the curves of his buttocks and thighs. Edward turned around just then, as if he knew she was there and he smiled hugely when he saw Winry. But her eyes were still on his boxers because the outline of his manhood showed clearly under the sodden cloth.

She jumped guiltily and gulped hard when he scolded "Winry!" in a voice that pretended to be shocked, but was secretly pleased to be the object of her attention. She felt the heat of her blush as it darkened her face from hairline to chin and made her blue eyes sparkle. This made Edward chuckle in response, a deep, manly sound which seemed to come directly from his heart and promise delights greater than simply gawking at his nearly naked body. Winry responded to his amusement by blushing even harder, so she clenched her fists and attempted to summon righteous anger _(pretend he just messed up his automail again)_ in a bid to regain control over her feelings.

Edward turned off the spray of water. "Win?" he enfolded her hands in his, one warm and slightly callused, the other cold and hard. "What's wrong?"

Her husband had an uncanny ability to cut right to the chase, so Winry looked up directly into his yellow eyes. She had to fight to keep her own eyes dry and wide open, although moisture brimmed along the lower lids. "Ed, we're - um - I mean, I got the results from, ah-"

"Yes, dear, spit it out."

_Shit, I'd better just say it._

"I'm pregnant."

She should have expected Edward's reaction. He hesitated for only two heartbeats before he whooped, flung his wet arms around her still relatively narrow wait and lifted her high in the air, The racket attracted the attention of not only Den, but also Alphonse and Pinako.

Winry's secret was out.

/

Alphonse was the first one to broach the subject of possible baby names and he made the first suggestion:" Hohenheim", after his and Edward's father. Edward's face first blanched, and then reddened. They'd made a sort of shaky truce during his first years trapped on the other side of the Gate, and he'd forgiven Hohenheim – eventually - but it was still too soon to use that name and he vetoed it. But when Alphonse not-so-innocently suggested "Roy", Edward expression collapsed completely and he leapt to his feet in a minor rage.

"No son of mine will be named for General Bastard!" He blustered with much arm waving and angry glares, all show to intimidate Alphonse. Of course, Alphonse had done it on purpose, but that was his cue to blush and withdraw into himself like a startled turtle. But he didn't retreat until one final suggestion: "Alex".

Even Winry narrowed her eyes at this one. The Strong Arm Alchemist would be most honored to have a child named for him, yet Edward leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and tried to imagine it. No, that wouldn't do. He shook his head harder for emphasis. Having been on the receiving end of more than one of Alex Louis Armstrong's spine-cracking hugs was enough. "Are you kidding, Al? He'll scare the poor kid to death!"

Pinako hadn't said much throughout the entire exchange; instead she just sucked thoughtfully on her pipe and waited for a chance to get a word in edgewise. But she finally spoke up to nip in the bud the minor riot which threatened to break out at the kitchen table. "What if the baby is a girl?"

The sound of three voices talking at once stopped as if cut off by a knife.

"A – wha, what - a girl?" Edward's brain briefly short circuited at the thought and crimson spread over his face a moment later. He'd hadn't considered that scenario at all. Should Winry birth a girl, only one name would do for his daughter.

_Trisha_.

He blurted the name out without a second thought, but when that thought finally hit him, Edward stopped talking and gawped like a guppy out of water. He'd forgotten Winry might want to name a baby girl after her mother, Sara. He hung his head and Alphonse said "Sorry, Winry" in a low, unhappy voice before he shot a fierce look at Edward which spoke _you idiot!_ in large red letters. He reinforced the sentiment by punching Edward's left shoulder and muttering the words under his breath, just in case his older brother hadn't heard the telepathic rebuke.

Winry didn't seem upset and she just smiled indulgently at both of them. "I might give birth to twins, did either of you think of that?"

Neither had and the brothers, plus her grandmother, all stared dumbfounded at her like owls in the daytime.

/

_Seven and a half months later..._

**Winry**

Her water broke on a blustery winter day while she sat on a wooden stool and was in the middle of making adjustments to Edward's arm. One minute she was poking "under the hood" with a screwdriver, the next Winry was looking up in shock, and then down in surprise at the gush of warm liquid which darkened the fabrics of her coveralls, ran down her legs and dripped onto the floor. A mild contraction hit her next and she uttered a startled "ooh!", dropped the screwdriver, and bent forward as far as her swollen belly would allow. Unfortunately, Edward wasn't wearing his arm at the moment and he wasn't even in her work room. Winry tried to climb down from the high stool, but a sudden wave of vertigo made her vision fuzz out for a moment, she gasped and clutched the sides of the stool, which rocked ominously from side to side.

**Den**

Fortunately, Den was in the work room and sleeping on an old rug along the far wall. She knew something was up with her mistress and had followed her closely for the past few days, alerted by some kind of blip on her canine radar. Den came instantly out of her dream of chasing automail cats at the first sound of trickling water; she was up on her paws and trotting over to Winry when the first contraction doubled her over. The dog whined and licked her hand when Winry whimpered in pain. "Den, get Ed - ow!" The old dog understood and raced out of the workroom, barking loudly enough to rouse the dead.

**Edward**

"Thanks for helping me finish this Al. Do you think Winry will like it?" Edward was outwardly relaxed, but his voice betrayed his anxiety over the sheet-draped object he and Alphonse had just brought up from the basement. They heard Den barking just as they reached the kitchen floor and set their burden down. It was large and unwieldy as well as heavy so both were huffing and puffing when they stood straight up to stretch the kinks out of their backs. Edward had finished the job last night, and it was a good thing too because Winry had demanded his arm half an hour after breakfast, which meant he would need help carrying it up two flights of stairs to the newly decorated nursery.

**Den**

She found her mistress's mate standing in the kitchen with his brother, and she barked to get their attention. Both scowled and told her to be quiet, so she stopped barking and commenced whining. "Den, what is wrong with you? You'll wake Winry and Granny up, now shush!" She turned around and stared at the stairway, then looked back at them before she barked once. _Come ON, you stupid humans! _The two kept giving her blank looks, so she trotted over to Edward, grabbed some pants material between her teeth, and tugged hard. She released his pant leg when he yelled, sat down and whined some more. "What is it Den, is it Winry?" The brother asked and Den gave him a big doggy smile as a reward. _I knew the smart one would understand!_ Den barked once more before she ran to the stairs and raced up them, pounding footsteps from behind told her the mate and his brother were following.

**Pinako**

Like Den, Pinako also had a feeling Winry's time was near, which is why she'd lain down on her bed for a nap. Soon enough, naps would become luxury items, so it was no surprise she was annoyed when Den began barking. She was the one who suggested Winry take some time off for a nap between lunch and breakfast, because it was best to catch all the "shut eye" she could before the baby came. She'd seen Winry go into her and Edward's bedroom and shut the door before she retired to her own room, but she hadn't known her granddaughter had risen after a mere half hour and bullied Edward into removing his arm. The barking had ceased for a time, but now it resumed and was getting closer, plus Pinako could hear running footsteps. She sat up in her bed and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes before she put her glasses back on. _It's time for me to get to work._

**Winry**

Despite her best attempts to dismount gracefully, the stool wobbled and finally fell backwards with a crash, depositing Winry onto her backside with an abrupt and painful thump. She was still holding Edward's arm in her left hand where she'd grabbed it in the panic of falling. She gritted her teeth against another contraction, gripped the arm tightly, and waved it around, as if auto mail could ease the pain. _Dammit! Not now, baby!_ She was crying softly and trying to get up when Den charged back into the work room with Edward and Alphonse close behind. "You're gonna need this, Ed!" she handed the arm to her husband who took it with a bemused smile, worried more about his wife than his automail. Sparks danced when he re-attached it and she heard him grunt in pain.

**Alphonse**

It would be an understatement to say he was shocked to discover Winry laying on the floor and struggling like a beached whale. After she handed the arm over to Edward, Alphonse helped his guide the plug into the shoulder socket and shielded his eyes from the sparks that flared. Edward clutched his shoulder, gritted his teeth, and muttered curse words under his breath, words he wouldn't dare say after his child was born. He wouldn't be much use until the nerves finished re-connecting, so Alphonse walked around him, put his hands under Winry's arms and braced himself to give her a chance to get her feet underneath her. Something clenched in his chest when she bent over and groaned as a third contraction hit. Getting her downstairs to the birthing room was going to be a trial; he bent down slightly to support her weight as they left the work room and turned right towards the stairway. Den whined behind him, but she stayed with Edward and licked his sweaty face.

**Edward**

He hissed between his teeth and pressed his back hard against the wall as he rode the waves of pain, the fingers of his left hand massaging the skin around the port in an automatic reflex. But he'd re-attached that arm often enough to know it was dangerous to rush his nervous system, it needed a certain amount of time to get used to the suddenness of connection. "Agh, Den, stop it!" Edward sputtered after the dog's errant tongue lapped across his parted lips. Den whined again and pressed her furry body hard against him, before she slumped to the floor so her head was in his lap. Edward relaxed as best he could, letting his muscles go slack and his joints loose, until the pain subsided to just random tremors through his limbs. Once he felt he would be able to stand, Edward straightened his legs and rose up; using the wall to guide him until he was fully upright. Den had also stood up, her tail waving as if encouraging him. His auto mail fingers twitched spasmodically and he took one tentative step forward, and then another until he was out in the hall and heading for the stairs, Den walking slowly next to him.

**Alphonse**

He was also sweating, his shoulder muscles screaming with fatigue by the time they finally made the birthing room, a temporarily re-named area of the recovery room where patients slept off the morphine after their automail surgeries. He gently set Winry down on a bed and helped her scramble up and back until her head rested on a pillow. "Thanks for the help, Al, I can- uh!" Winry stiffened when a contraction seized her, she'd been holding his hand yet, and the strength of her grip squeezed a soft cry of pain from him. The contraction passed quickly, "Sorry, Al". Winry gasped and relaxed her grip softening until he was able to retrieve his hand. "It's all right, Winry" he assured in a distracted manner, although it really wasn't; his hand was red and marked with pressure lines from her fingers. Granny Pinako walked in with an armful of towels which she set on a bedside table, "The midwife is on her way, Alphonse. Get the tub ready." Al nodded obediently, "Right away, Granny." He went to a nearby closet and got the birthing tub, a galvanized steel affair about eight feet wide with sides about sixteen inches high. It was heavy and unwieldy and he had to roll it out to a spot on the floor next to he bed. He felt so helpless when Winry cried out in pain. She would have to give birth herself; but there were other things he could do to help the process, and he got right to work.

**Edward**

He'd just made it to the kitchen when someone knocked once on the door. It opened before he could take a step towards it to reveal the muscular forms of the village midwife and her assistant. This woman had grown up on a farm until her teens when she was apprenticed to the former midwife, who'd passed on a decade ago. Her name was Mrs. Treadle, although Edward wasn't sure there'd even been a Mr. Treadle; if there had, the marriage hadn't lasted long. The assistant was a teenage girl known to him only as Greta; she had long dark hair in pigtails which cascaded down her back almost to her knees. Both wore matching long gingham dresses with short sleeves, the material loose and billowing, comfortable clothes for the job of helping mothers bring their babies into the world. Their hair was covered with cloth kerchiefs knotted tightly; he could see random ends of Mrs. Treadle's iron gray hair poking between folds in the cloth. The assistant carried two cloth bags with wooden handles, the bags soft sides bulging with the outlines of unknown items and Edward shuddered, he didn't want to know what they contained. Mrs. Treadle nodded once in acknowledgment and Edward nodded back, his lips pressed tightly together with worry about Winry.

**Winry**

She'd never known such pain before. As a child, Winry Rockbell-Elric had collected her share of bumps, bruises, cuts and scrapes in the course of play. When she was eight, she'd even fallen out of a tree and broken her left arm. That pain was sharp and stabbing, but it paled in comparison with the screaming agony of labor. Winry curled up as best she could around her swollen belly and tried to ride out the pain so she didn't feel the hands rubbing her back at first. After the contraction faded, she looked back to meet her husband's eyes, narrowed in concentration, the skin around them pulled tight with concern. His hands kept moving, strong fingers working on the knots in muscles coiled in anticipation of the next contraction. She knew he was probably feeling helpless right now because his one major part had ended nine months ago, the rest was up to Winry and Mother Nature. She closed her teeth on the pillow to bite back another scream.

**Pinako**

She remembered the ordeal of her own pregnancy and labor to birth Winry's father, Daniel, almost fifty years ago. Things were far different then, her husband, Yuki, was banished from the birthing room the minute the midwife arrived. Pinako had labored and given birth in an all-female environment, and she didn't see her husband until the day after their son was born. He'd been all awkward smiles and fumbling words from behind a massive bouquet of roses he'd brought from the village florist. So happy to be the father of a healthy son, but so saddened she'd had to suffer. Yuki had vowed then and there never to make Pinako go through pregnancy and childbirth again. She was relieved by those words at that moment, but if she'd known his remaining time on earth was fated to be so short, Pinako would have gladly had another child. When the door opened, she gave Mrs. Treadle and Greta a large smile of greeting, then beamed in further approval when Edward entered soon after and went straight to Winry's side. She briefly considered ordering him to help Alphonse fill the birthing tub, but held her tongue just in time. Edward would prefer to be at his wife's side.

**Mrs Treadle and Greta**

Both the midwife and her assistant judged the usefulness of men in the birthing room to be on a par with tits on a bull, but the Elric brothers were doing their best to stay out of the way. Mrs. Treadle was very familiar with the brothers as she'd assisted at the births of both of them. Like most first babies, Edward's was difficult, he'd screamed at full volume the moment he was born until he fell asleep. Alphonse was a little easier; he cried some but quieted right down once he was breastfed, which was what he'd wanted in the first place. She opened one of the wooden handled cloth bags and removed the tools of her trade, laying them side by side on a clean towel she unrolled on top of a side table. "Mr. Elric, please remove Winry's clothes, she will wear this until the baby is born." Mrs. Treadle's voice was no nonsense and brooked no argument when she held up the sleeveless short-skirted dress made of unbleached muslin for the couple to see. "It's more practical for water births," Greta piped up in an astonishingly high soprano voice. She stopped speaking, opened her mouth as if to say something more. Then she snapped it shut again and moved closer to the bed to take Winry's clothes as they were handed over.

**Edward**

It took some work getting the coveralls shrugged down the sweaty skin because the material insisted on sticking. Even with the panel of elasticized material around her stomach, he had to gently roll the coveralls down to her pregnancy-swollen ankles which presented yet another complication. Her panties were soaked with sweat and uterine fluids. Edward looked over his shoulder once at Alphonse, but the suddenly bashful boy was pretending to inspect the birthing tub for leaks and resolutely kept his head down, but the edges of his ears were flaming red. Edward smiled before he turned back to carefully pull the bandeau up and over Winry's head. He took the large sponge Greta handed to him and dabbed cool water on his wife's face and neck, and then down her body before drying her with a towel. Then he supported her in a sitting position so Greta could slip the shapeless dress over Winry's head. Another contraction hit just as he laid her back down and he let her crush his left hand with her grip. The fine bones of his hand ground together with painful crunches, but he bore it without complaint.

/

_Another sixteen hours later..._

**Edward and Alphonse**

Two males, one man and one teenage boy sat next to each other on the hallway floor, Den laid between them, her head on her paws. The brother's knees were drawn up, crossed arms over those and chins resting on their hands. Edward was clutching his bangs and scowling, but he clenched his hands tighter whenever another scream issued through the thick wooden door next to them. For ten long hours, he and Alphonse had walked Winry up and down the hallway, their strong arms supporting her, especially when the pain of contractions made her knees buckle. After every few laps, they'd take her back to the bed so Mrs. Treadle could measure how far she'd dilated. "Not enough, not yet" she'd said time and time again, so Winry had to stand up and walk another few laps. Only when his wife was completely exhausted was she allowed to stay on the bed where Edward fed her ice chips and dabbed her forehead while Alphonse massaged her aching feet. Then, Mrs. Treadle had summarily banished them from the room when she decided Winry was ready to begin the really serious work of pushing her baby out. That, and the door slamming so fast it hit their backsides were the twin injustices that stuck in Edward's craw.

**Pinako**

The old woman had lain down on the couch overnight, although she slept only fitfully through the lonely hours. But after just a few hours of half-remembered dreams she decided any more seeking after the velvet arms of Morpheus was a lost cause. She sat up and smacked her lips together and blinked her eyelids which were gummy with sleep. Pinako still wore the same clothes from yesterday and she distinctly felt like moldy bread, but she would bathe later because there was work to do. She went into the kitchen and lit a burner, filled the coffeepot with water and then ground beans in an old hand cranked grinder before setting it over the heat. Then she got a tray out of a lower cupboard and set it on the kitchen table, Pinako wasn't a sentimental woman and the thought that just over seven months ago they'd discussed baby names here never occurred to her. She was about to fetch the step stool so she could reach the coffee cups in a higher cupboard when Alphonse suddenly walked up behind her. "Let me, Granny, I need something to do." he mumbled in a sleepy voice while he stretched his long arms to fetch what she needed.

**Winry**

She missed Edward and she had protested the ouster of her husband, but the midwife's word was law, as Greta informed her. She lay back and whimpered from the resentment at Mrs. Treadle's high-handed treatment as much as the labor pains. The midwife pretty much ignored her patient's petulant attitude to concentrate on measuring the degree of dilation, a highly humiliating- in Winry's opinion - procedure which involved sticking her hand up inside the birth canal. Winry just wanted it to be over because her entire midsection was one giant undifferentiated battleground of aching muscles that spasmed with sharp pains every few minutes. Mrs. Treadle telling her some first-time labors could last forty hours or longer wasn't helping.

**Mrs. Treadle and Greta**

Greta clicked the stop watch button before she turned slightly to Mrs. Treadle and inclined her head slightly. "Contraction are two minutes apart, Mrs. Winry, it's time for the birth. Your husband will be allowed in to re-heat the water and support you." Mrs. Treadle's voice was crisp, with a no-nonsense air to it, as if her words alone could hold Winry up. In her experience, this is when many first-time mothers 'hit the wall'; exhausted and fearful of yet more pain, when they began often to wail "I don't want to have a baby!" The husband came in, yawning and stretching, his eyes at half mast from lack of sleep, and his jaw stubbly. He listened to Mrs. Treadle's instructions while swaying slightly but he seemed to understand. The hand clap was little more than a soft _tok_ followed by a flare of reddish light, and suddenly the water was steaming slightly.

**Edward**

He was gratified to see the way his wife's blue eyes lit up like a theater marquee after he re-entered the room. The midwife was telling him something, but he listened with only half an ear because most of his available attention was focused on Winry. Her face was pale and sweating, marked with the strain of hours of painful labor, and a fresh wave of guilt washed over him. He re-heated the water with care, warm, yet not too hot that it would be uncomfortable for Winry. He helped her off the bed and into the tub before he knelt down, automail arm behind her back to hold her up. Her body shuddered as a contraction began to build, "I'm here, Win, lean on me." he whispered softly in her ear, a whisper quickly drowned out by Winry's scream of pain. Mrs. Treadle exhorted her to push as hard as she could this time. The swells of Edward's guilt were at high tide and they lapped against his conscience like hungry sharks.

**Winry**

The pain tore through her pelvic area and Winry knew she couldn't take much more. She squeezed Edward's left hand in a crushing grip while she pushed against and through the agony of yet another contraction. Something shifted inside her, with a terrible, ripping pain and a queer sliding sensation. There was a rush of blood and fluids and something splashed into the water. Mrs. Treadle stabbed both hands down and came up with something pink and wriggling, something that wailed loud enough to make her eardrums throb. The sound was horrible and wonderful all at the same time, it filled the room and overwhelmed her senses until she started to cry. Edward whispered something in her ear, something gentle and loving, but she couldn't hear him, because all her attention was on _it_. No, not an it, a baby; _her_ baby; _their _baby.

/

_**It's A Girl!**_

/

Alphonse could barely contain his excitement, he couldn't seem to get settled in the high-backed wing chair and he wriggled around, trying to get comfortable. But one knee jiggled impatiently, and he sat stiffly upright, even after his bottom had sunk into the over-stuffed cushion. The chair was very cozy and he easily could have sat back and fallen deeply asleep, but someone important was coming.

"Are you ready, Alphonse?" Greta came soft footing across the wooden floor towards him, a blanket wrapped bundle in her arms. A living bundle that squirmed and made subtle noises while waving a chubby pink fist in the air. Alphonse's eyes and mouth widened as far as they could while his arms came up to receive the small package which seemed to weigh almost nothing and tons at the same time.

His newly born niece; she was not even an hour old in the world and still unnamed. Her eyes were open and she stared hard at her uncle, like he stared back at her. "Hi, there," Alphonse cooed softly at her, the words little more than a brief puff of warm air. The baby girl's little pink lips, like some exotic sea creature puckered and a bubble formed, then popped between them, making Alphonse chuckle.

The unaccustomed sound made her eyes, an indeterminate muddy color that could be blue, could be brown, could be yellow, or it could be a mixture of all three, narrow. Alphonse felt a brief surge of alarm at the thought she might begin to cry, "It's all right, baby, it's all right!" he whispered frantically and uttered shushing noises. The baby's mouth worked as if she was trying on new expressions for size. She settled for pursing her lips and uttering a series of grunts.

Alphonse smiled when he heard rumbling sounds coming from the region of his niece's bottom. S_he's __farting__!_ He thought with glee and he clamped his lips together to keep from laughing out loud. But his expression changed when a suspicious warmth spread just above the same hand, followed closely by an appalling stench that made his eyes water.

He glanced up quickly at Greta, and by her expression, the apprentice midwife seemed to be enjoying his discomfiture. "The medical term is _meconium_, the baby's first stool. Sometimes the baby produces it while it's still in the womb, although it generally comes immediately after birth."

This was too much information for Alphonse, who could feel his cheeks heating up with embarrassment. The baby was uncomfortable too and she began to cry, a thin sounding wail which brought an alerted Den on the run. She sniffed curiously at the infant, whose tirade hitched only momentarily before doubling in strength. The old dog looked up at Alphonse and whined in confusion. He suddenly rocked sideways when Greta slapped his shoulder with enough force to knock him down.

"C'mon over here, boy, I'll show you how to change a diaper."

/

The changing of diapers, Alphonse reflected, was an unpleasant task, but his niece seemed to be a lot happier and she now slumbered contentedly in the crib after he'd moved it to the living room, closer to the fireplace. He and Pinako knocked together a quick supper from an icebox full of assorted leftovers. Mrs. Treadle and Greta had joined them after they ensured Winry had expelled the afterbirth, and they'd also given her a sponge bath. Now changed into a fresh nightgown, an exhausted Winry and her equally tired husband slept together in the same bed she had given birth in. The midwife and her apprentice had left soon after eating, they needed to rest and prepare supplies for the next mother to be.

With dishes done and any remaining leftovers returned to the icebox, Alphonse and Pinako sat in the living room, content with their private thoughts, while a vigilant Den lay snoozing next to the crib. Pinako surmised she'd accepted the new pack member and was instinctively protecting the "pup", a theory that somehow made perfect sense to Alphonse. Through the west-facing window, he could see the early spring sun, like a giant red ball, just touching the horizon. The trees were barely starting to unfurl new green leaves, and hardy spring crocuses opened in the flower bed when the air warmed during the afternoon. But it was still chilly in the mornings and evenings, requiring Alphonse to wear a warm coat whenever he ventured outside at those times. But spring could not be halted in its tracks and strange as it seemed to him, the Spring Lamb Festival was less than two weeks away.

Lambing, calving and foaling was already in full swing at farms around the village, plus a few babies besides Winry's had arrived in the past few weeks. A startling thought, like a bolt of lightning, suddenly came unbidden to Alphonse's mind and switched on the little light bulb in his brain. Not wanting to sound like a dewy-eyed idiot in front of Pinako, he considered his words with care before he spoke them.. From his seat on the couch, he glanced over at the old woman, now a great-grandmother, who moved slowly back and forth on a bentwood rocker and sucked on her pipe.

"Granny?" Uncertain of himself, he paused for a moment; then plunged on, now certain she was listening. "Spring is a time of rebirth and renewal, right? He glanced over at her again, she was still rocking and smoking, and emboldened, he continued. "So, we need a name for the baby, a good name that symbolizes spring, so, would, um -" he bit his lip. "April would be a good name for her, wouldn't it?"

Pinako didn't answer at first; she drew on her pipe before she pulled it out of her mouth and blew a smoke ring that lazily floated towards the ceiling. "April Elric-Rockbell. It sounds like a good name, Alphonse."

The boy squeezed his eyes shut, concentrated hard,and tilted his face upwards. "April Patricia Sara Pinako, uh - Izumi Riza Olivia Maria, er - Schieska Rose Elric-Rockbell."

"That's a powerful lot of names, Alphonse. Are you sure those won't be too much for a little thing like her?"

"Well, I know Brother would like to honor all the strong women in his life; you - and they, taught him to grow up strong himself, and, ehrm - ." Alphonse bit his lip and red dots stained his cheeks, but Pinako held her tongue and let him finish his thought. "I know it's a lot of names, and they might not fit on the birth certificate, but I think she'll grow into them. She's both an Elric AND a Rockbell, after all!"

Pinako took another puff off her pipe and her eyeglasses flashed when she tilted her face back and watched the smoke waft up to the ceiling. "You have good intentions and your heart is in the right place, Alphonse. But Edward and Winry might want to save some of those names for her little sisters."

Alphonse goggled at her in amazement, as if Pinako had suddenly sprouted another head and a pair of wings and then flown around the room. _Little sisters?_ He hadn't thought of that.

**Author's note:** This story is dedicated to my great-niece, Kaiya Rose who was born September 23rd, 2009, about 3:30 PM.


End file.
